Adrenaline
by GeniaTheParadox
Summary: Smutty Johnlock drabble with basically no plot. I can't even think of a way to summarize it because it's just... smut. Enjoy!


I was going to publish this a few days ago, bit put me in Fanfiction Jail for an improperly rated fic. So... yeah.

Out off all the smutty Johnlock fics I've written (also known as _all the Johnlock fics I've ever written_), this little drabble is the first that is literally just filth. So hold onto your deerstalkers for a short burst of plotless sexy time.

Reviews would be just lovely, thanks.

And I am definitely not clever enough to have invented Sherlock Holmes.

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**Adrenaline **

They couldn't get their clothes off fast enough. Sherlock had John up against the wall the moment they got into the flat, kissing him roughly as they pushed each other's clothing off. Sherlock kissed down John's bare chest once he'd pulled the doctor's jumper off and ripped his shirt open – torn off buttons scattered over the floor, but neither cared just yet.

John tangled his fingers in Sherlock's dark curls as the detective got down on his knees, leaving a trail of wet kisses and red marks down John's toned body. Sherlock's slender fingers unzipped John's jeans and pulled them down to his knees along with his boxers, and without much preamble Sherlock took John's already leaking hard on into his mouth, until his nose was buried in the course pubic hair.

John threw his head back against the wall, moaning his lover's name as Sherlock began to bob his head back and forth, swirling his tongue and sucking hard. Sherlock revelled in the taste of John on his tongue, his lover filling his mouth so perfectly. Sherlock relaxed his throat, and John didn't take much encouragement to start thrusting into the detective's mouths, gripping tightly on Sherlock's hair as he watched his length disappear into his lover's beautiful mouth. He noticed Sherlock's hand moving down to the bulge in his own trousers, and gave his hair an extra hard tug.

"Don't you dare... hands where I can see them, Sherlock..."

Sherlock let out a frustrated groan around John's cock – the vibrations of which only turned the doctor on more – his own erection aching in his restrictive trousers. But the detective did as he was told, something he only ever did for John, and place one hand on John's hip and the other fondling his balls. John was panting against the wall, sweat dripping down his forehead as he thrust messily into Sherlock's mouth, so close he could barely stand it. Finally he let out a cry that sounded a bit like Sherlock's name, erupting hard down his lover's throat and shuddering as Sherlock swallowed around him.

Before he even had a chance to catch his breath, Sherlock pulled John down onto the floor, kissing him hard and fierce and passionate. Sherlock lay down on the floor with John on top of him, moaning with relief once John finally undid his trousers and pulled them down along with his underwear, releasing his pulsing, dripping cock. Pushing his open purple shirt away, John kissed down Sherlock's pale, slim body, catching a sensitive nipple in his mouth and sucking it between his teeth as his hand wrapped around Sherlock's member and started to stroked.

Sherlock moaned his lover's name in between a stream of expletives, bucking up into John's fist, already impossible close to his climax. John smeared the hot beads of pre-come over the head of Sherlock's cock with his thumb, stroking faster as he sank his teeth into his lover's pale shoulder, sucking until he left a possessive red mark. Sherlock was babbling incoherently as he thrust his hips up into John's hand until finally something snapped. With kind of silent scream, Sherlock came all over John's hand and his own stomach, his back arching off the floor and his toes curling in pleasure until he was completely spent.

They lay together on the floor, clothes hanging off them, sweaty and breathless and thoroughly debauched. John dragged his tongue over Sherlock's stomach, licking the mess before they kissed each other lazily. With the adrenaline of their exciting and successfully solved case no longer coursing through their veins, the detective and the doctor lay on the floor of 221B in the afterglow, in desperate need of a shower and some sleep, but much too sated and happy to move just yet.

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Hope you enjoyed, Humble Readers.

xxx


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